


One Night

by The_Bubble_Gentleman



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Drugs, Fluff, I accidentally made them talk like old people, Jealousy, M/M, Smut, Yo guess who's back, and tension, but there's gonna be porn, how fun, its the Snapple bitch, okay so I don't know what I'm gonna make them do yet, whoopsie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-11-19 03:28:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11304768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bubble_Gentleman/pseuds/The_Bubble_Gentleman
Summary: Tom meets a handsome stranger at a bar. But is he really a stranger?Holy shit I'm not gonna tell you anything else plot twist woah





	1. oh man *fans self*

**Author's Note:**

> "Yo Snapple bitch why aren't you working on 'my angel'?"
> 
> I got bored so here's the product of that
> 
> This is gonna be an "every-two-days-there's-an-update" situation. So enjoy my shitty ass writing skills yet again.

Betrayal.

Anger.

Frustration that exceeded typical standards.

One might conceive from the precious statements that it would be pitch black during the night, illuminated by the industrial lights throughout a busy city. There would be rain, too. Rain seems to symbolize all that is hated. Everything wrong with the world, punctuated by falling drops of water.

Well, as classic as it seems, that is indeed the case. Everything wrong seems to happen at night, doesn't it? Perhaps because we tend to rely on things to cover up our wrong doings. The darkness to hide us. The rain to wash it all away. The scattered lights guiding a path of escape.

No one bothers with the mechanisms or reasons for things. They only care about the main event. The simple details, the symbolism, the analyzation of everything, no one seems to care. It's as if entertainment is what drives the human body.

In fact, you probably don't care about what I just said.

I see before me a man. A man on the inside of a bar, a place of lust and drunken greed. _This man isn't like the others_ , I think to myself. The way his eyes flicker when they target my own, how that strong jaw seems to be set and clenched when facing me. His full attention seems to be on my being.

 _Here_ , I think to myself, _is a man who pays attention to details_.

What stood out about this man shouldn't be that interesting. I pass by men and women alike throughout the day, no matter the timing. Do I ever think, _what if I just stopped and looked at them_? _What if I nodded in their direction_? Of course I don't, that'd be a waste of time.

It seems tonight is a night of learning from mistakes.

When I was quietly walking through the streets, head bent and hands shoved in pockets, I noticed yet another neon sign that indicated that yes, we have what you are looking for. Not for eternal fulfillment, but on temporary need. Nothing seems to be eternal, only temporary, and the businesses that advertise those seem to do the the best.

My inner workings were geared towards my current troubling situation. Why did that happen? What could I have done to prevent it? What could I have done instead of saying this and that? Different scenarios involving the same people played through my head. I should've smacked him, I should have grabbed the knife I saw on the counter and plunged into his neck, I should've screamed everything I had ever wanted to tell him.

Flashing pink and green distract me. It has a margarita spilling, then regaining its former stance, forever repeating the cycle in order to make its point. I see plenty of people inside as I do outside. Something cold, something colder than my heart and this weather to distract me from my problems.

"Mid-winter always was a bitch." I mutter under my breath.

The door alarms the whole establishment of my arrival. It's not a big place, just a street corner bar desperately aiming to get more drunkards. It smells like chemical air-freshener, along with the sharp tang of alcohol, the very reason I'm in here. I see women with bright shadows over their eyes, either standing near a party of others or howling with laughter from a man's joke.

Ugh. Men. I hate men.

I don't mean to sound too much like a single, middle-aged mother, but men are the main cause of my problems. I'm sick of them. They're almost as bad as women, constantly judging the other, trying to impress everyone with their different qualities and attributes.

No, I needn't think of their incompetent species, I should think of what to indulge my liver in.

I sit at the bar, avoiding the conversations that nearly and physically involve me in, what with the way they swing their arms about. A woman with hair like candy, but a bright blue that was faded but classy.

Nothing should be classy about this place but eh, what the hell. She asks in a voice like silk what my beverage of tonight will be. She looks sweet enough, what with how she made sure to button up those top buttons that most women who work here seem to forget. Her makeup isn't loud, either. I see that her name is Laurel due to the fringed sticker on her chest.

"Smirnoff, love." I reply. She blushes and gives me what I assume to be a winning smile. I should probably stop flirting with girls. It only gives them meaningless hope for a future that will never come, especially with me.

A liquid of varying substance spills on me, soaking my arm. My first instinct is to yell at the careless (probably a man) person, only to instead take a sharp intake of breath. I glance up and see two women.

"Oh! Gosh, I'm so sorry, I'm such a klutz." She giggled. Her friend stifled a laugh and handed her a paper napkin. "I hope you're not mad...?"

I sigh.

"No, ladies, the blame lies with me. My apologies." I know exactly what they're doing. I know the game that women who come here play. For effect, I wink and give them a smile.

For simplicity reasons, I'll call the friend closest to me Slut A, and the one behind her, Slut B. I'm sure they are wonderful people, but when intoxicated and single, they seem to act like the titles I gave. Nothing to differentiate from the other, other than two letters.

They practically fell over each other, a blush defining the makeup put there for the very purpose. Slut B kept tapping the others shoulder out of enjoyment. Slut A was flabbergasted and took the napkin to wipe the liquid off of me. The seemingly kind action was not the purpose of it.

"Wow..." she sighed. "I've never met such a gentleman before." Her friend had nothing to offer than a snort and another fit of giggling.

"You're too kind, miss."

Slut A gave me another smile. She was awfully close. I could see the smudge of eyeliner bunched in the corner of her eye. Not expertly applied, or rather, not applied for the audience of the sober and observant.

"Well, we might as well introduce ourselves." She winked. "I'm Alaina, and my friend here is-"

"Sir." A sharp voice cut in. I turned my head only to see an irritated Laurel. "That'll be five pounds." I happily dished out the required amount, though handing over more than asked.

She blinked.

"Sir, this is a bit much for a drink."

"And you're a bit too sweet for a barkeep. Have a nice night, miss Laurel."

She blushed and ran off to talk to a man, presumably informing him of her latest acquaintance. He said something to her, then went behind the curtain.

I heard beside me a whisper of ' _she wasn't even that pretty_...' I clicked my tongue. Retraining myself is going to be very difficult, especially after the night I've had. I took a swig of the drink. It burned my throat in the most wonderful way. I turned back to the women beside me.

"What's your name?" Slut A asked, eagerly attempting to regain my supposed interest. It's all for nothing, however. Can't lose what you never had.

"My name?" I gave them another smile, and took another sip of my beverage. "My name's Thomas, dear. Not too original, I'm afraid." She gave a laugh, as did her friend.

"No, no! It's completely fine. It suits you! Very masculine, very...mysterious. It's fitting." It appeared that she was trying to be seductive. I almost felt bad for her.

"Yes, very mysterious."

What is it with this bar and startling me? I directed my gaze back to where Laurel used to be, where the voice was coming from, only to find someone else.

A man, with an air that screamed of domination. His eyes were sharp, accusing but comforting. They were auburn and pierced into my very being. A jawline and cheeks bones so sharp it could probably cut me if I ever slapped them. Not that I would ever entertain the thought. A soft looking mouth atop a strong chin. His body, my god. Broad shoulders, arms that stretched his shirt.

He seemed to speak with a voice that reminded me of wood, an oaky tone complimented with an accent of something Nordic.

But, though as tempting as this is, it's still another fucking man.

I left my feigned interest for the women and stared at the stranger. He seemed to glow in the faint lights of the bar.

"I see you've taken interest as well." I said. "What's yours, then?" He smiled, teeth shining as bright as the city.

"Tord, at your service, sir."


	2. Some convo and character expo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> wassup bitches. So, they basically just talk. Like, das it. Kinda short, my apologies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be longer I pinky promise.

It's usually at this point in a movie where everything would slow down.

I mean, the character that's about to fuck up the whole story is here, and it's important to take notice. However, this isn't a movie.

It's reality.

My eyes raked over him. He was wearing an apron, meaning he worked here, meaning I could converse with him a little longer without blaming it on anything other than my alcoholic tendencies that he could so graciously provide for.

" _Tord_." I purred, letting it glide off my tongue. It flowed beautifully together, and the sound of it was very...exotic. "Now _there's_ a name full of mystery."

And that is where I am now, facing someone new and interesting. He was smiling, eyes never leaving mine, leaning against the bar. There was something about this particular man that left me curious with each spoken word of his.

"It's a name from the north, a Norwegian title. Nothing exciting, really." He sighed, glancing at my drink. "You're not drinking much. The way Laurel described you, it seemed that you were an alcohol enthusiast."

"So you were sent over here..." I sighed. I was only mildly disappointed that he didn't come over here out of a different reason."Did I disappoint you?"

"I heard word of a generous man, and I figured I had to see him for myself."

"And what do you make of me?"

There was a gleam in his eye, a shine that made my breath stop.

"I don't know yet. I hope to educate myself with further acquaintance."

Wow.

Now _that's_ a good pickup line.

"Oh he's very nice! He's really such a gentleman!"

I sighed. I had forgotten that they were still here, and wishfully hoped it could've stayed that way. These ignorant girls seemed to think there was an actual chance of a hook-up.

My eyes hadn't left Tord's face, mapping out all the features and desperately still searching for a clue. Tord was still looking at me, and seemed a bit aggravated at the interruption, which made me feel a little smug. I had somehow affected him, and that did wonders for my vanity.

Tord turned his eyes to the ladies, still facing me.

"As I can see. Tell me, ladies, what else do you have to say on him?"

They turned to each other and yet again giggled. Slut A turned back around.

"Well," she said, as if it were a valuable piece of gossip. "We actually don't know much about him."

Tord nodded his head and directed his gaze back to me.

"Well, here you're leaving us in the dust. Tell us a bit about yourself." He rested his head in his hand. I couldn't quite understand what he was getting at, but I humored him nonetheless.

"There's not much to say about me." I started, taking another swig of my beverage. "Other than my love for music."

Tord raised an eyebrow.

"What kind?" He asked. "I hope it's nothing too shameful."

"It's not in specific categories." I began, adjusting in my seat. "I love music with a deep bass. Something low and thrumming that vibrates the room, _culminating_ the soul. I don't have preference to high speed or calm paced, rather depends on my mood. But then a high but lovely brass or wind instrument comes into play, and everything comes alive. The pitches intertwine, the harmonies, if added, are perfection, and the low beats just carry the song. Only to be described as beautiful."

I looked around and noticed that they were staring at me.

"That sounds wonderful." The girl beside me breathed. Her friend smiled. As nice as it was, it wasn't really their opinion I cared about. I turned towards my pique of interest. He was looking at me with half-lidded eyes, those eyes trying to convey something, but what?

"You...speak quite powerfully. I haven't heard any of it yet." He finally stated. "And it's already won me over."

I grinned in triumph.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fucking sleepy. Y'all have a good day/morning/evening/I don't fucking know, y'here? Cool. I'm gonna sleep.


	3. *cries Snapple flavored tears*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit a walkin, a bit o talkin. Yknow, the good Shit.

"And you'll definitely call?"

"I swear on my life, miss."

"My, Thomas, that's a bit intense."

"I'm an intense person."

I had gone through only two glasses by the end of the night, and ended up buying those girls a couple of drinks as well. I didn't really mind, it was their presence that annoyed me, which I suppose wasn't their fault. They weren't that bad to talk to. I had an actual good time.

The bar had closed up. It had certainly fulfilled its purpose of distraction. It even came with an interesting man in the package.

It was nearly three in the morning. The fact that anyone would stay that late with me was astounding. But, Tord and Laurel had closed, and had walked us out, the girls following behind.

Thy had smiled and walked the other way after handing me their phone numbers. Tord had put up a mock show of 'we all spend an evening together and I don't get anything to remember it by' which convinced the girls to lightheartedly do the same for him.

It was Laurel, Tord and I, together walking down the streets. Laurel was mainly the one talking. To me. Tord was on my other side, and he didn't do much other than look at me. My face heated up under his gaze, but I pretended not to notice.

"Really? Now that's just surreal." I responded. Laurel was turning out to be a pleasure to talk to, and had interesting commentary to put in.

"Well, that's just him!" She laughed.

It was a nice night. Or at least, turning out to be. Hell, it wasn't even night. It was an ungodly hour of morning. But the moon looked pretty. Brisk, but nice.

Laurel turned her head to me.

"In case you were wondering, I may or may not have...told the whole bar about you."

"Figured. I had suspected something when I saw a man walk up to me, currently known as Tord." The very man had snapped out of whatever thoughts he was thinking at the mention of his name.

"Yeah. She had said something about, and I quote: 'a really hot guy just gave me a huge ass tip', and the guy who told me prompted me to see this foretold 'hot guy' currently known as Thomas." He smirked. This guy seems to have a retort to everything, clever and sarcastic and...

" _Tooord_!" Laurel whined, making me laugh. "You weren't supposed to say that!"

"No no, I take it as a compliment." I smiled. "Been referred to a lot of things in my life, never a 'hot guy'."

She hid her face in her hands and gave a low groan. Tord snorted next to me.

"Well, what do you think miss? Am I still as hot as I appeared, now that you've actually spoken to me?" I hummed. She lifted her hands away, a blush covering her cheeks.

"I-I mean," She stammered. "I'm not gonna' say you're ugly, I mean, y-you certainly are...attractive..." I threw my arm around her and patted her shoulder, laughing like drunken idiots. Which, I suppose we are, in a way.

"If it helps, I think you're quite lovely yourself." I purred. Her face evolved into a darker shade of red completely,and she couldn't help but smile.

The clearing of a throat interrupted us.

"Pardon my existence, but I can't help but notice the pure romance I see blossoming between you two." Tord muttered, his face revealing a monotone expression. "Please, if it gets any sappier,  go get a fucking room."

Laurel giggled and reached across me, poking his cheek.

"Aw, jealous that I have your new friend under my spell? Sorry, dearest." She stuck her tongue out, to which he replied with the same. I couldn't help but chuckle at their interactions.

"And you, Tord." I asked, turning back to him. "Did you find that I was as hot as she claimed?"

Tord stared at me, then swallowed.

"I won't set anything in stone, but I will say that you certainly aren't...difficult...to look at."

My cheeks heated.

Laurel went behind me, my arm falling from her shoulders, and whispered something to Tord, who flushed and snapped something back. They stared at each other, a look passing each other that left me confused. She glanced back at me. I tried to cover up my confusion by staring ahead.

"Well," she tsked. "I'm sleepy, and I'm just a few blocks over there." She pointed to a direction. "Make sure he gets home alright, Tord." She winked and headed across the street, leaving me to walk with Tord.

Alone.

Tord obviously didn't know what to say, which was both a relief and a worrisome factor. As interesting as he may seem, as charming as he may appear, we have only just met. Not to mention we met in a sketchy bar in a city I don't know that well. Appearances do not determine the character.

Speaking of him, he was awfully quiet. This was becoming stressful. It was silent, and the tension was thick. I was suddenly overcome with desire to overwhelm him with charm, to where he would leave me tonight thinking of me, and how pleasurable it was to speak to me.

Maybe he'd leave with my number.

I can't deny my attraction to him. A rolled up shirt with a bow tie, fitted tightly across his chest, showing every muscle in his back that moved. His devilishly handsome face. His voice, his hair, his large and (probably) warm hands. Those eyes. His quick wit and clever demeanor. It's wrong of me to assume an attraction on the first day of meeting someone, but...

Was I as bad as the girls? Hoping for something that'll never happen?

"So, don't take this the wrong way, but where are you staying?"

His lulling voice pulled me from my thoughts. So clear cut and smooth, like kisses in my ears. However, the content of the words weighed down, and I soon cleared my throat to answer.

"I....I don't know, actually."

He was silent.

We continued to walk. The moon shone through and seemed to be watching us, waiting for the tension to drop. As was I, to be honest. We had talked so much at the bar, then...silence.

"I'll probably stay at a hotel." I offered. He laughed.

"You seem indifferent to the idea. Your voice betrays you."

"I think most anyone would prefer a home to a hotel."

"Do you have one? A home, that is." He said. "...You talk of 'home' like it hurts you. Did something happen?"

I didn't know how to respond.

Though I may feel otherwise, I don't believe he would accept me and my...preferences. He seems far too nice to be one of those people, but again, appearances are deceiving. I can easily avoid telling him that part of me, but that would require a lie.

I could say it was a girl who broke my heart.

And I lived with the person, so that only complicated things more. But...he also may not agree with the job I left. What life I led. So, not a lie, but a truth that will escape the details.

"I had an argument with my...partner..." I began. "About how we would live our life, how we decided to make decisions. And it resulted rather...violently."

He listened, his eyes trained on me. Was he actually listening, or did his own thoughts succumb him to silence?

"I happened to live with this person." I sighed. "This of course led me to leave. I have friends here that'll gladly let me stay with them, it's really no big de-"

"Stay with me tonight." He stopped walking, turning to face me completely. "I'm sure you do have friends, you're a likable guy, but I would prefer it if you were with me tonight. I'd...like to get to know you better."

His confession of actually somewhat enjoying my company had my mouth open slightly, at loss for what to say. He couldn't mean...what I thought he meant, right?

I decided to ask questions about my new found arrangement. Maybe I'd get some answers. I shut my mouth and composed myself.

"Are you seeing anyone right now? I wouldn't want to intrude." I asked. He smiled, then continued to walk again, me following behind.

"No, and I live alone."

So he lived alone and was not seeing anyone. Good news. A part of me kept telling me that no, this is the first time you've ever met him, and you're considering _that_? Absolutely not.

"Well, if you live alone, wouldn't that imply you only had one room? I'd be fine on the couch, though." I quickly added. God, he probably thought I was a snob after that first question. Of course I would be sleeping on the couch, and there is no problem with that! He probably only wanted to stay up and talk, like a respectable man. Like a normal guy. Jesus fuck, if he ever found out what I was, he wouldn't ever talk to me again.

"I only have one, yes. However, I wouldn't mind sharing a bed."

Well that was the least hetero thing I've ever heard.

"I..." I didn't really know what to say to that. His intentions remained unclear and I was scrambling for something to say. I could only give a poor attempt at understanding men, once a-fucking-gain.

He laughed. His laughter sounded so beautiful, like a chiming of bells in one wonderfully deep-pitch package.

"I had assumed you react like that. I won't do anything weird, I promise. However," his voice dropped and his volume lowered. "I don't think I've been misreading you."

The alarms were going off on my head to make an excuse to leave. He may or may not have found me out? Which was silly, I think, after he saw me flirt with those girls. There's no way anything could have let on...

"I can't...imagine what you mean." Yes, very eloquent Thomas. That'll show him, you fucking idiot.

He sighed. We came to a halt in front of a door. The sign beside it said 'Flats 19C-24C'.

Odd.

"If you were expecting a mansion complex, you must be greatly disappointed." He mused, giving me that grade-A smile again.

"No, I was just thinking that...it's a little weird. I lived, well, used to live, over there." I pointed to the building next to it. I felt uneasy going near that place. I wonder if he's still there.

"Yeah. Weird." As if not at all surprised.

He stepped up to the door, opened it, and held it open, completing it with a little bow.

"I'll allow the mysterious and musical men first."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bye guys


	4. Hon hon hon~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bois talking and squawking.
> 
> Like seagulls.
> 
> Because they can turn into birds.
> 
> Plot twist

Tord's flat was very nice nice looking. It wasn't big, but I wasn't concerned about that. I saw plenty of books and papers strewn about on a desk and...basically everywhere else. Nice furniture. It didn't look like a show home, it looked comfortable. Like he actually lived here, and that was nice. It was otherwise messy, but I didn't expect it to be clean.

Tord, however, felt that it was rude for his house to be like that.

"Sorry about the mess..." He grumbled. "Attempt to make yourself at home."

I tried to bite back a smile. He was this worried of what I think of him? That was almost cute.

Actually, not almost. Very.

I plopped down into his couch, sinking into its warmth. It was comfortable. I found that it smelled like him in here. I can't describe it, and it's smells smoky and spiced. Whatever it is, it smells good. Like himself. Like a man.

Oh, god damn it.

I glance over at Tord, who's picking up some clothes from a table. He picks up what appears to be his boxers, and mumbles an 'oh honestly, Tord.' I hid my laughter behind my hand.

As he was cleaning up, I couldn't help but let my mind wonder to the question of why have I never seen him before? Especially since I only live a house or two away? It was probably a coincidence that he lived by me. This kind of stuff happens all the time.

"Alright well, that was embarrassing." Tord walked over to the couch and sat down next to me. "I'm sorry about all that."

"No, you're fine. It was endearing, actually. You looked like a little housewife."

I couldn't have just said that it's fine, I had to call him endearing. Some people say it is generous and hospitable, but no. To me, it's endearing, and I just had to say it out loud. Of course I did.

He only smiled at me.

"See, that's what has me so confused. You say things like that, and I can't help but wonder what you're playing at..." He rested his head in his hand, facing me, his other hand tapping meaningless beats on his thigh.

I've obviously been caught, though I think I was found out earlier, it seems that only now do I realize it. He doesn't seem uncomfortable with it. I wish I could just get inside his head to know what he was thinking.

"Once again, I don't know what you mean." I tried, looking him in the eye. His eyes reveal something, but I can't figure out what.

"Don't play dumb, you're far too intelligent for that." He hummed. His hand slid from his leg and onto mine. Nothing too inappropriate, but it got his point across.

Boy did it ever.

I was struggling to keep my cool, but was ultimately failing. My heart was hammering in my chest. My veins set afire with adrenaline. I could hear blood rush to my ears. I didn't want to assume something. What if he was trying to get information out of me as well, trying to confirm his suspicions? After a long pause, I decided to do nothing suggestive.

"What..." His thumb rubbed small, tight circles in my leg. I pursed my lips but kept going. "...exactly am I doing? If anyone is doing anything, it's you."

He gazed at me, half-lidded eyes, a smirk on his face. I bit my lip. He was interesting, yes, but very confusing. My heart was still pounding. It was hard to breathe, especially with that way he's looking at me like that. I feel something hot and pleasant pool in my lower abdomen.

"I'm not gonna' go into detail," he whispered, leaning forward. " _But_ I know what you want. I see the way you look at me."

He sat up and edged closer. We were a bit close, and I could see and feel everything. I saw his eyes flicker with an unidentifiable light, his knowing smile, his perfectly angled face. I could feel his hot breath on my skin. It's now quite obvious what he wants, and that did nothing but excite me that he had similar inclinations. It's a dangerous game he's playing here. I'm not going to lose so easily just because he can make my heart stop from a glance.

My hand reaches under his chin, my fingers brushing against his throat. I feel his breath hitch. My fingers press and his head tilts up a bit. His eyes are wide with confusion, and I can only bask in the pride that I have the confidence to do something like this.

"Well, for you to notice my gaze, you'd have to be looking at me, and I can't help but wonder what you see when look at me." I asked, moving my thumb up, brushing against his lip. He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He really is beautiful. So lovely, so pretty, and I am overcome with desire to kiss him.

"I see..." He mumbled. "A handsome man, with a sharp mind, a wonderful sense of charisma, and a knack for attracting...unwanted women." He can so easily take my breath away, it scares me. He titled me with the previous complements, and that only concluded his feelings. He delightfully wanted the same things as I did.

He called me handsome? He's one of the most attractive men I've ever laid eyes one. He's the one who's smart, charismatic, and an overall delight. But he named me as those qualities. My poor rib cage couldn't contain my beating heart.

I especially liked the bitter tone dripping from his voice when the girls were mentioned.

"You seem unhappy with my success with women. Why's that?" My thumb traveled to his cheek. So soft, shaven, hot to touch, so lovely.

Tord's eyes were going half-lidded again, relaxing and nuzzling into my touch, like a cat. I caressed my fingers up and down his left jawline, watching him twitch from the slight tickle it gave.

"I-I..." He stuttered. My hand was traveling up to his hair. He nearly purred, giving off a low groan in his throat. My fingers were intertwined in that soft, if oddly shaped, hair of his. It only added to his originality, in my opinion. He seems to like it. So much, in fact, that it was distracting him from my question.

"Answer me, Tord." The way he bit his lip let me know that yes, I was in control of the situation now.

"Well!" He snapped his eyes back open, huffing like a child. I pulled my hand back, grinning at his reaction. "I would answer, if you didn't pet me like that! It makes me feel very...distant."

"Distant?"

"I guess that's not a good term for it. More like..." He edged closer. "... _pleasurable_."

We were now quite close together, our breath mixing, our eyes locking, our foreheads bumping together. I wanted to pull him into me, kissing him in a way to make his knees weak, as he seems to effortlessly do to me. To feel our lips together, probably soft and sweet, and then evolving into something more passionate. Gasping for breath in between, our saliva mixing, flushed and panting and...

"You seem to have a talent with those hands." He mumbled. He was sparing me of his gaze, and had been looking at my hands, resting in my lap.

I leaned forward, right by his ear.

" _You should see what else they can do_." I purred.

"That's it." He huffed. His hands were on both sides of my face, pulling me into a kiss.

Hot, heavy, our lips smashed together in the erotic way that made my lower region heat up in interest. Moving against each other, as if we were made for this position. It played with my arousal, edging a shuddering groan breath out of my throat, translating into a soft moan.

No, I inwardly scold, I won't let him know how much he effects me. Even though, with his arms shifting to wrap around my neck, it sends electricity down my spine. Everything is tingling and it only makes me push harder into the kiss. He pulls away on account of oxygen deprivation.

"I-I...oh _god_." He gasped. His forehead resting on mine once more as he tried to get his breath back. Well, I can't say as if I wasn't a little poor in air. I was panting just as hard as him, maybe harder.

He sat up on his knees, then plopped into my lap.

We looked at each other for a while.

"Can I...do that again?" He whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YO GIMME YOUR ATTENTION PLEZ
> 
> I'm having trouble with who I want to be top and bottom. Usually I have a lil botTOM If yOu KNoW WhAT I MEaN. But as I'm rereading this I see that damn, Tord's pretty ukey. I dunno leave a comment.
> 
> lol they're not birds


	5. Guns. And shit. And    so the balance shIFTS

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yes that's a Hamilton reference. And yes, I know, I'm fucking clever. Anyway, point is, I'm an indecisive fuCK so it's been like a week or some shit instead of the originally planned two days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> L m a fucking o. I'll try to update as soon as possible which I thouGHT only TWO DAYS would be enough but NEVER MIND. Sigh

Huh. How interesting.

I know that my answer will definitely affect me, even in the long run. Tord is going to cloud my mind, take over my every thought. Especially since he lives right next to me. Well, I guess I don't live there anymore. I'll probably leave tomorrow for lodging with a friend, but the possibility of staying with him...it was quite the morality scale.

It'd be best if I just said no, make it easier to remove myself from the situation. Away from that apartment. They'll be looking for me, and the best idea would be to go far away.

But they'll probably expect that I'd go to my friend's houses. Or maybe they won't, thinking it's too obvious. I shouldn't overthink this.

Back to my original point. If I said yes, I would find myself getting laid, and possibly gaining an ally. Getting laid is always a wonderful option. However, the pressing matter weighs down. They wouldn't look here, would they? It seems too random.

Or perhaps it isn't. Perhaps this is a man sent to find me, happened to run into me at a bar, and decided to "gain my trust" only to hand me over to them later. As crazy as it sounds, when it comes to them, anything is possible. I've come to find that they will get anything they want. It'd be best to say no. Stay at a motel to formulate a plan.

God, I should just say yes. His eyes are glazed, his cheeks a pretty pink, his breath grazing my flushed cheeks. I can feel his arousal pressed against my abdomen. We both want this. Why not just give in to mortal desires?

"Please do." I whispered against his lips.

He took a deep breath and crashed into my lips, throwing his arms around me, pulling me closer to him. His heart is beating just as fast as mine, our chests mashed together. It was hot between us, nothing but heat and friction and want driving us. His hands were roaming down my back, clawing at me in the most erotic way.

We separated, a small trail of shared drool connecting us. It was hot, and our jackets (for protecting us from rain) do not dampen the situation. Our puffs of hot air had warmed up the room considerably, and it was most desirable to take them off. We were looking at each other, taking in the other's wrecked expression.

We slammed back into each other in frenzied lust, our jackets discarded on the floor, practically forgotten in the moment. His hands were trailing down my back again, this time untucking my shirt, presumably to pull it off.

I pulled apart in amusement, leaning against his forehead as he tried to angle for another kiss.

"You see, this...is a button up. And it doesn't...come off like that." I said between gasps for breath. He snorted and, giving up on getting another kiss, decided to lick and kiss my neck. I sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as his warm, wet tongue left behind a hot trail along my skin.

"Y-Y'know," He rasped. "Button ups aren't very sexy." I opened my eyes in a half opened stance and smiled.

I grabbed his hair, pulling it up along with his head. His eyes were opened in shock, a trail of drool escaping his pretty little mouth. I smirked and gripped tighter.

"Aren't they?" I whispered. I saw his eyes widen. I tilted my head down to his exposed neck, trailing a long lick over the column. I felt his throat bob under my ministrations.

"I-" His voice cracked, the end trailing up to a high and off-key pitch, to which I smiled in approval. Adorable. I kissed just under his chin, a small peck, then leaned back to admire his face. He was all flustered about my actions and his traitorous voice. He cleared his throat.

"I... _fuck_ , I meant to say that it seems like a little too much work to button and unbutton." He swallowed. "Wouldn't it be easier with a simple shirt, or are you too snobbish for that?" What a brat.

"This is our first, and most likely last, time together. There are plenty of things you don't know about me." I released his hair, moving my hands to unbutton my shirt. "I like to make my partners wait. I like to tease them and watch them writhe with anticipation." I watched as he bit his lip, watching me. I dropped my voice a bit lower.

"I like to make my partner need me, and only me, for their release."

There. That should do it. He had been watching my hands, and had slowly but surely made his own glide over his arousal. I had wanted to affect him as much as he was me. It seemed to work. He looked thoroughly aroused and appeared to be more compliant. Perfection.

That, however, did not last long.

His eyes snapped back up to mine. _As if escaping a trance_ , I noted proudly. His jaw set and that same glimmer in his eye, making me question my own methods of getting docility.

"And a button up shirt is the way to do that?"

Fucking hell.

"Well, you're waiting, aren't you?" I purred. "And look at you, rubbing yourself like that." He seemed to notice what he was unconsciously doing, only rested his hand there, and gave me a sultry look.

"I suppose it worked then. You must be good at what you do."

I scoffed, and finished up from removing my shirt.

"What, at sex? I guess I am...since I seemed to seduce you." I brushed it off as airily as possible, but I noticed with a stroke of pride that his face was hinted a deeper blush than before.

I tossed off my shirt, leaving me only in pants.

He stared.

"What?" I asked.

He took a deep breath and leaned forward, running his hands up and down my chest and stomach. His fingers felt like electricity, leaving behind sparks of heat that felt so good, so wonderful.

"Absolutely gorgeous." He mumbled. Blood was rushing to my ears at the compliment, my eyes closed. He hesitated, but licked the sensitive and hard nubs on my chest.

Unfortunately, I was the first one to make a sound of pleasure. Only giving him more dominance over me. _Fuck_.

"Oh, you like that?" He hummed. He scooted forward, sitting with his legs crossed as he made himself comfortable. "You sound as pretty as I imagined..."

Tord gave a sharp nip, then wrapped his arms around me, pushing me back onto the couch. I was laid into the soft cushions, his warm body above me, and I couldn't help but shiver. The way his mouth was worshipping my nub like that, his eyes watching me, his hands holding him so close to me, it was overwhelming to say the least.

I needed this. Just one night of nothing but unwound tension and heavy pleasure to make me forget.

Tord eventually stopped, to which an involuntary groan edged its way out of me. He sat up, adjusting himself to be sitting right in my crotch. I closed my eyes and bit back a whimper at the pressure. It was like he knew what I loved when it came to these activities. Knowing every turn-on, every spot, everything that just drove me wild.

He gazed at me with half lidded eyes, giving a smirk that evacuated all breath from my lungs. His hands came to the hem of his shirt, mandatory for work, given that it is a uniform I guessed, and peeled it off, leaving us both with only our exposed chests, beating hearts, and erections. And pants.

Literally, just fuck pants.

He was as beautiful as his shirt had foretold. He was toned, and the idea of just touching him was arousing. _God_ , and his arms look so strong and I just can't even deal with it. Well, I'd like too, but he was sitting on it.

 _Fuck_.

Damn, and he had this happy trail thing going on. His gorgeous abdomen had a line of hairs that lead downward, disappearing underneath his pants. His eyes and body are just teasing me.

I could easily just push him down to flip positions, and I could run my fingers up and down that beautiful body of his, listen to his labored breathing and small gasps. And I'd take my hand and follow that trail until-

A spark of pleasure rushed through me. I came crashing back to reality and saw that he was grinding on me. He was grinding on me, and he wore an expression that did nothing for my self control. He looked completely relaxed and comfortable and beautiful, and I wanted to kiss him more.

" _Mmmm_...you look beautiful underneath me~" He purred. His hands came up to his own chest and tweaked himself. They were hard and red and swollen and fuck he's so beautiful. He let out a soft moan, to my libido's delight.

"The view's just as... _fuck_ , as good down here. _Fuck, keep going_." I moaned. My head was tossed back, letting wave after wave of heated need pulse through me.

"No." His smile widened. "I want some other things from you tonight. I don't want this to end so quickly." His hand trailed down his succulent body and gave a small tap against my bulge pressed against his. "I'm going to exploit this as much as possible."

"You really are a vixen from hell sent."

"What can I say? You make me this way."

I closed my eyes and let out another moan. The very idea of affecting him this much....My hands gripped the cushion as he ground down even harder.

"T-Tord..." I moaned weakly. "Please, _oh fuck."_

"Tell me what you want baby." He asked, stopping his actions, earning a whine from me. I bucked my hips, trying to gain more friction, only accomplishing him to bounce slightly. My breathing had become heavy and taking in air was becoming harder than ever with the way he was staring at me. He pursed his lips.

"Actually, before we do anything..." He shifted to find himself with his face full of my neck. His hot breath and panting was in my ear and sending shivers down my spine. "You clean?"

"W-What? You mean...?"

"Mmhmmm.."

He licked my throat, then bit down. My eyes fluttered shut, a barely audible swear escaping me as he found my pulse. Everything was pounding around me, and it all felt so good.

"Well?"

"Oh, y-yeah, I'm clean."

I felt a smile form along my neck. He gave the mark he left a kiss, then carried on with kisses down my body. All trailing down, all leading-

To that wonderful place that pulsed ecstasy through my whole body. He was trailing his tongue over the sensitive skin right above my pant line. My legs were involuntarily twitching, which he held down with his arms, only increasing the eroticism of the situation. He was teasing me, the bastard.

He tilted his head up to look at me.

"Take off your pants, gorgeous."

  
•••

  
"Oh f-fuck, _harder_!"

He was flush underneath me, absolutely at my mercy. His chest heaving as he tried to gain the breath being fucked out of him. His head tilted back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide open in a beautiful "O" shape.

His legs were wrapped around me and his arms were still at his sides, gripping the cushions in a white-knuckle hold. He's so lovely beneath me, so pretty with his eyebrows knitted together in utter ecstasy. And he was tight, so damn tight and it did nothing for my self-control.

On one hand, I wanted to give him a good time. Since it is the whole purpose of tonight. Something meaningless but perfectly pleasurable all the same, and something we could just forget about within a couple days. On the other hand, he kept letting out those moans and mewls for more, and kept bucking his hips in that sinful way. His shoulders red as well as his face. Who could resist just letting go and mercilessly fucking that hole?

Of course, I got hold of myself. There's no way I'd want to hurt him. But fuck me, if it wasn't a battle of morals.

I had been so caught up in my inner turmoil that I had forgot to comply with his wish. So I went harder, driving into him harder and driving him out of his mind. He let out gasps of _'yes_!' and only moaned louder.

The room had become considerably hotter. Sweat was gathering on the back of my neck, and leaving cold trails as it slid down my back. Sweat was forming on his face and chest as well, dripping down his lovely skin.

I was going to cum, and it was going to be soon. I'm a man of my word, and if I say I'm cumming, you best believe I am. Even in my lust-drunken mind, I was still considerate enough to release one of his thighs and stoke his bobbing dick, red and swollen and adorned with bubbling pre-cum at the tip. He let out another series of erotic moans that only fueled me to got faster and harder, attempting to make him release first.

His chest was still heaving, his cheeks still flushed, and his head tipped back towards me, one glazed eye peeking open.

 _"P-Please_ , c-cum inside, _fuck_ , cum inside me." He mewled. His other eye opened a bit as he watched me drill into his hole. He kept moaning and whimpering at the sight, and I found myself furiously stoking his dick as I was thrown over the edge.

I held out though, as only a moment later, white streams of cum were spurting out and covering his chest. A silent, high pitched moan came from his open mouth. His throat was exposed, as because his head was tilted far back and his back was arched in a beautiful way. No other way to describe it then simultaneously cute and sexy.

I came. Riding out my orgasm as his tight walls convulsed around me. Wet and tight and hot and so, so wonderful. It felt so good, so amazing. Pleasure danced along my nerves, hot white bliss coating my senses. 

" _Aaaah_..." I groaned. Tord let out a pathetic moan as I filled him up, as I continued to gently fuck him. He seemed appreciative of my actions and hence forth licked his lips while softly thrusting back to me, milking me dry.

As soon as it came, it left. The heat and pleasure had paraded through my body and left, fortunately leaving me in the lovely state of mind we call the afterglow. Content and peace had replaced it. The small sparks of overstimulation coursed through my spine as I pulled out, earning me a small whimper.

He let out a soothing sigh and bit his lip.

"Good?" I smiled. I directed my attention to my cum slipping out of his ass. As erotic as it is, it still needs to be cleaned up.

He laughed and threw an arm over his face. A pretty, genuine laugh that made my heart swell.

"Oh. Oh fuck yes, just... _yeah_. I mean, _wow_..." He sighed. His arms slipped off and he gave me a sleepy, adorable look, a silly smile on his face. He looked innocent, despite what we had just done. I wanted to kiss him again, but I felt like it might cross a boundary. No I'm being stupid. We were making out just a while ago, and we just fucked, so why should it be weird to kiss after that?

"Yeah, well, I've never received any complaints." I hummed, amused at his expression. Everything felt so much more relaxed and calm and peaceful. The endorphins rushing through my blood, the adrenaline winding down.

He was looking at me, and that somehow still made my heart skip a beat.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing. It's nothing. Y'know what, could you hand me that box of tissues over there? I think it's starting to dry, and bleh." He gave a lazy halfhearted point to the box in the table.

I adjusted myself to where I was laying down on my stomach. I slithered my way up to his waist and started lapping up his spilt cum. Salty and bitter, an acquired taste but good nonetheless. He snapped up.

"W-What are...you doing?" His eyes were full blown and dilated.

"Cleaning up the mess."

"I-I-...you don't have to do that!"

"I know. But what can I say? You taste delectable."

I looked up at him. The blush was reaching his ears now. He was so embarrassed, but I didn't care. I took one last swipe of it, then gave his stomach a parting kiss. And with that, I pushed down on his tummy, massaging and pressing and eliciting satisfied noises and relaxed words. I felt my load spill out of him and onto the tissue I had laid down. Still warm and thick, I took the tissue after wrapping it up and placed in on the table.

He closed his eyes and widened his smile, his arms reaching up to the sky when I turned back to him.

"You've had your way with me, so I don't suppose it's too much trouble to ask that you help me up, hm?" Did he really think all chivalry was lost in this world?

So, I instead picked up a blushing Norwegian, bridle style in my arms.

He gave a cute little yip and wrapped his arms around me. He tried to hide his moment of surprise and shock with a clever quip.

"...and here I thought all the gentlemen had disappeared." He murmured. I kissed his scrunched up nose. "Though, I'm sure you can't hold me forever. Second door to the left in the hallway, driver."

"Yeah. Imagine car noises if that helps."

He let out another round of pleasant laughter as I made my way to his door. Smelled even nicer in there, I noticed.  
Wasn't clean, but again, I wasn't expecting it to be. I plopped him down on the heap of sheets and blankets.

I found myself questioning myself yet again as I held him in my arms, listening to his soft breathing. Was that the best decision I could've made? No. Should I have left instead of consenting? Maybe. But I decided that no, if he was one of those men I was in the run from, he would've done something already. Maybe slept with me, then texted them to come get me.

But it seemed fine. It was all ok, and tomorrow I was going to leave and try to text Edd or something for a place to crash. It was going to work out fine. I think...

  
•••

  
When I woke up the next morning, I found a gun pointed to my head.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit whaaaat. Yeah, see, the title makes sense now that you've read the chapter, eh? I'm fucking clever. Validate me in the comments below, my brethren.


	6. Gay boys being mean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom wakes up and shit goes d o w n.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I've been gone. Okay I'll try to update every three days, that ok?

I should've been expecting it really.

And actually, I did.

He was too conveniently placed, it was too perfect an opportunity. And he seemed too warm and nice to be just a simple encounter.

I should've prepared myself better.

I was calm, even staring down the barrel of a gun. I deserve for them to come find me. I was too careless, and my dick was thinking for me. So, instead of wallowing in self-pity, I simply adjusted myself on the bed for better comfort.

Tord had his original outfit from last night on. His expression no longer held one of seduction and good humor. It held something monotone, apathetic and stone-cold. He was speaking into his phone with that same accent, but no longer charming. Only business-like.

He held the gun loosely, which either meant he was new to this, or he was so experienced that he felt professionalism didn't matter. Ignorance or cockiness, which would be worse when it comes to wielding a gun?

He nodded his head, and spoke into the phone once more.

"Yes. I understand." Silence. His eyebrow raised, but he quickly regained his stoic appearance. "No, and I hope you don't think that immature period of time will affect my performance of this transaction."

I couldn't hope but wonder what he did. Did he mess up once? Did he say something out of line? Hell, did he betray them? No, I shake my head, I shouldn't care about his general wellbeing anymore. He works for them, as I feared, so he no longer concerns me. Revenge seems pathetic, so it'd be best to only label this event as a trap with a good looking man. I'm not surprised...stuff like this has happened to me before, and I never learn.

I can never trust these damn men.

My arm was starting to get pins and needles, given that it's supporting my weight. But when I tried to better lean myself up against the head of the bed, he only clicked off the safety of the gun. Well then.

"Well then," I repeated aloud. "Am I not allowed to be comfortable at all? My arm's starting to hurt, y'know." He only narrowed his eyes, still listening to the phone. He rolled his eyes, then made a gesture with his gun that said 'get on with it.'

I smirked, then sat up completely. I glanced down and realized that I was still naked. He seemed to notice that and lightheartedly tossed my clothes to me, holding his phone between his shoulder and ear, returning to his original position standing by the foot of the bed.

"Yes, understood. I'll see you when you get here." He removed his phone and put it in his pocket.

There was a heavy silence.

"Well, go on. Put them on. They'll be here any moment." Tord said, breaking the quiet and tense atmosphere. "And I assume you know who 'they' are?"

I stood up, all shame gone, as I let the sheet pool down to my feet. I turned away from him and started to pull on my boxers.

"Yes. Honestly, if you were going for the element of surprise, you should be disappointed. I expected this." To that, he laughed. Cold and domineering.

"Ha, well, if you expected it, then why did you stay?"

"I'm human, aren't I? I have needs."

"Which seem to now get in the way of continuing your life in a normal fashion." He trailed off before mumbling something under his breath. "Just as we humans do, I suppose..."

I was nearly done with putting on my clothes, now working on buttoning it back up. I turned back to him.

"I hope you understand that I could easily take you down right now." He only jerked his gun.

"And I hope you realize that I have a gun. I have authorization to shoot, should you show any resistance."

More silence. I flopped on the bed and crossed my arms behind my head, supporting me against the headboard.

I started formulating a plan. How good was he at shooting a gun? Or developing a strategy? Or reading his opponent's next move? My plan would be to use my switch knife and throw it at his hand. Gun would drop, I'd throw myself at him and knock him to the ground. My foot would push the gun to slide across the room. I'd stab him along his jugular artery on his neck, killing him instantly. I'd wait on the bed for them to come, then shoot them as they filed in.

No that seems dumb. They'd open full fire if they saw their comrades being shot and killed. No, it'd be best if I left after I killed him. But what if they were expecting that I'd kill Tord, doubting him of his abilities, standing outside ready to shoot? It's happened before.

Or maybe they have two teams, one outside, and one coming in the building. Knowing them, it's the latter. And if the former, they'd recognize me and my clothing. I could use Tord's coat, but they'd recognize me as him. No, it wouldn't work.

"I'm surprised they didn't kill you on the spot." He spoke after a while. "After what you did, and your level of intel..."

"Yes, I'm aware. Which is why I wanted to avoid them in the first place." I muttered in distaste. "But that seems to be unavoidable now, thanks to you, my dearest."

"You're too kind." He deadpanned. His gun was still cocked and pointing at me. I sighed.

"You said they'd be here 'in a moment.' Hate to break it to you, but don't you think it's been more than a moment?" His eyes narrowed. I continued. "You should rest your arm. I'm not going anywhere."

He didn't respond.

No, actually, I think I could escape. I'd make them think I left. I could kill Tord, then I'd hide in that closet over there by his bathroom. I could stay behind his clothes, wearing the black pants to blend in with the shadows. I'd stay there, they'd see Tord dead and assumed I escaped, then run out. Afterwards I'd come out of the closet and-

I snickered.

If we had a bitchy Russian math teacher then I could easily recreate high-school.

"Oi, what's so funny." Tord said.

"Nothing, nothing. I'm just thinking of gay jokes. Like the fag I am."

"You seem more self depreciating than angry. Anything particular running through your brain?"

"As much as I'd love to tell my thoughts and feelings to you of all people, I'll have to decline. Why do you even care?"

He was silent again.

Perhaps I should talk to him, though. It'd lower his guard, distract him.

"If you're so curious..." I mused, ignoring his small murmur stating otherwise. "...then I guess I'm wondering about you right now. Tell me about yourself, hm?" He backed up to the wall, leaning against it. Good, he's dropping his guard.

"What's with the sudden interest?" He asked.

"Well, I'm sure this is an interesting encounter for you as well. I'd like to know a little bit about you. I think I have that right, since you are turning me into the people I dislike most." I smirked. "And you seemed a bit preoccupied last night to tell me your life story. More noise than information. I could recreate those sounds to refresh your memory if you-"

"I'm good, thanks." He snapped. His face heated up in a cute candy pink color.

He seemed distracted. I let my hand drift down to my pocket. Yeah, its still there.

"I grew up in Norway..." He eventually sighed. "I like guns, and have been infatuated with them since I was nine. My father taught me, along with the members of this party, how to shoot. As you remember, they are quite good with guns. I was assigned to watch and monitor you due to my high qualification. Especially since you're such a dangerous man. So, I'm good with a gun." He smirked."If that's any use to you."

"It helps, yes." I smiled. I think under different circumstances, we could be good friends. His actions prove he believes otherwise, but still. 'What could have been' will always rest in my mind.

"Any other questions?"

"Yes, actually. Why is your hair that way?" I slipped my hand into my pocket and grabbed firm on the knife, waiting for the right moment.

"Seems cool, I guess. I believe it gives me a presence that resembles a bad ass. Would you disagree?"

"I would. I have many things I would rather call you."

"Charming." He huffed, his gun still trained on me. I wanted to ask what else they said about me, other than 'dangerous', that is. But that'd only refocus his attention on the task at hand: me. What else could I ask?

"So, for my own personal validation, was I good?" I asked.

"At what?"

"At the sex. The sexy times, the coitus, the fornication. Was I any good?" His face flushed a deep red, his eyes widening. "If you are indeed as ruthless a killer as you proclaim, it'd be nice to know that I could make even you think I was a good fuck."

"I-I-...well, I mean...that's just..." He turned away from me, lowering his gun.

Got him.

I swiftly took the knife out of my pocket and, after flipping it so the blade would be out, I threw it between the now exposed area between his thumb and finger. His hand had lowered and it was the perfect place.

He let out a curse, the gun clattering to the ground. I was already up and swept my knee behind him, his legs giving out beneath him. He fell to his knees, but I kicked my leg against his chest. He was flat against the floor now. I pinned him when he started to get back up, holding his wrists.

"Now, doesn't this look familiar..." I purred. His face was shocked, probably since this event took place in less than thirty seconds. I'd be shocked too. He started to sputter out nonsense, only noise to me. I noticed the flaw in my plan. I'd have to grab the knife with my teeth, since my hands were preoccupied with holding his hands down. It had stuck deep in his hand, I proudly noted. But that'd require me getting close to his fingers. He could poke my eyes or something.

I leaned my head down to his pinned hands, beside his head. I'd have to transfer his hand to my right hand, so I could have a free hand to slice his throat.

I slid his hand, hearing a pained hiss from him as his bones were pushed against the floor under my weight. The friction probably burning him.

My teeth grabbed the handle, then I returned my head to my original position above him. My now free hand grabbed the knife from my mouth. I was about to slide it against vein, but then I unfortunately remembered that I should've held his legs down. Due to his legs now squirming beneath me. His face seemed concentrated, as if he was looking for something with his feet.

I realized my mistake. I heard something slide against the floor, hit the bed post, then angle for the side of his chest. His gun. He must've been lucky for that thing to hit exactly by him due to angles.

Or maybe he was just that smart. I could just ignore the gun, but I'd have to put a lot of weight on my hand holding the knife in order to cut skin and hit the vein. His hand could shoot out from lack of my other hand's weight and grab the gun, thus shooting me.

And if I grabbed it, I realized that I couldn't. I could put the knife down, then put my left hands weight on his hands, letting my right hand grab it, but that split second of no weight at all...he could easily get one hand out of the grip and grab either the gun or the knife.

Oh, he is clever.

He winked at me.

I tried to carefully move my free hand up to his forced conjoined hands. I kept the knife in my grip. I locked eyes with him, then slammed my left fore arm on his wrists to let my right hand grab the gun.

But I was too slow. One of his hands escaped, and it shot out to grab the gun. I knew he would shoot me, so I had to get my left hand back up again, my right hand supporting me on top of his other hand. My knife was quickly held against his neck. Tord's gun was held by my temple.

And we just...

Stared at each other.

His eyes were wide. Perhaps he was thinking what I was thinking, that a life is such a delicate thing. Here we have two men who have known each other for less than twenty-four hours. Doing what they don't have to do, but at the same time, what they must do.

We held each others lives in our hands. One swipe and I'd kill him. One twitch of his finger and he'd kill me. The decision that lay before us was inevitable, but I couldn't help but wonder if he was thinking the same thing. How we as humans have to do the strangest things in order to survive.

I heard a throat clear above us.

"I hope I'm not interrupting this erotic lover's quarrel."

Tord and I looked up.

There he was.

"Darling, you're looking well."

"Oh, for fucks sake." I murmured.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chugs Snapple intensely*


	7. Authors Note....i guess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *sneezing*

Okay so like

 

i need a gay villain name

 

for Toms ex, that is

 

as previously mentioned, I'm an indecisive piece of shit. I asked a couple of friends but they came up with stuff like "Ian" and "Brandon" and I don't really think those sound menacing enough to be bad guy names. 

 

They got the gay part down, tho

 

actually they don't have to be gay sounding I just need something scary. I swear to Bob Ross if I hear "Zarkon" or "Voldemort" of "Smaug" for a villain name I'll personally come find you, only to slap you gently on the elbow. More like a pat, really.

 

Anyway sorry I haven't been updating my stories.

 

and I'm sorry I ramble a lot

 

okie bye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stops sneezing*


	8. Gay Villain Introductory Chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I don't even have a schedule for updating even more. The schedule is lost, like my heterosexuality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys really "Vladimir" was an actual name you all considered and that's almost poetic. Tom dating Putin. Now there's an image.

He was just as I had left him yesterday morning.

Same steel cold eyes that sent shivers down my spine. Same soft brown hair that shone in the window's morning light. Same strong and sturdy build, with a sharp jawbone and broad shoulders and...

And the same large and warm hands, now holding a gun to my temple.

"Get up."

I, of course, obeyed.

I dropped my weapon and slowly stood back up, keeping eye contact with the barrel. He had it following my movements until I came to a halt and held my hands up in surrender.

They found me. Five other guys were behind him, eagerly peeking around his shoulder to view the action. And a sixth just walked through the front door. Outnumbered and defenseless, I have no choice but to wave the white flag.

They were going to kill me. What I did, they should've killed me the minute they laid eyes upon me. I was too far up though. Too deep into the system.

With that thought, maybe they wouldn't kill me after all. I was important to them, whether they liked it or not. I added a beneficial amount to this business, and I had connections that were useful. They might keep me around for a bit longer.

Yeah, my suspicions were confirmed. He held up one hand and mumbled a low: 'hold fire' which meant that either he'd be taking me with him or he'd stay a bit here than kill me. Or maybe not?

"Oi, Tord, get up. And grab the gun while you're at it."

Tord glared at him but complied, giving only a grunt in response.

Caleb turned to me.

"So, what the fuck were you thinking?"

Silence on my end.

"Like..." He sighed. "Tom, this has caused a shit ton trouble for the assholes on top. They know people, Thomas. They will not hesitate to kill you if they so desire."

I looked at the floor.

"Disregarding our own...personal problems..." He mumbled. "Why did you do it? Control of it all? Money? Because you felt that justice was due?"

He came forward and gently tilted my head up with his empty hand, lowering his gun.

"Whatever the reason, he wants to talk to you. And, just your luck, I'm the delivery boy. So grab your shit and let's go."

I slapped his hand away.

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?" I snapped, his eyes wide. "You guys can't do shit to me, and you know it. And what do you mean 'he wants to talk to me.'? Like, is that supposed to _scare_ me?" I dug my finger into his chest, my glare aimed at his eyes.

" _I'll_ do whatever the _fuck_ I want, and you and your lost boys can't do nothing to stop it."

He furrowed his brows, his hand dropping.

"First off," He said, cold and hard. "You _are_ important to this organization. That is true. But, has the thought ever crossed your kind that, because of how much you know, it'd make you an even bigger threat? That yes, it'd be a loss, but there are other people out there who can do what you do. Who are much more loyal to the cause than you'll ever be.

"Second." He snapped his fingers, a man coming behind me to tie my hands. "You are very strong. I know. But so are these men. And they have weapons. You have none. The odds aren't in your favor, darling. So yes I do believe we can stop you if you tried anything.

"And third..." Caleb pursed his lips. "You haven't met him that well. You don't know how aggressive he is." He cocked his gun back to my temple and hesitantly ran his fingers through my hair, only to grab it tightly between his fingers.

"One of the biggest drug organizations in the whole fucking world, with hundreds of people involved, maybe even thousands, all around the globe. And you decide to do the dumbest thing available, which is to rat us out." He shook his head. "Dumbass."

He spun me around, my back now flush against his chest as he grabbed my hair again and held the gun to my head. I felt his hot breath on my neck, but decided to ignore it, even though my stomach flopped at the prickly sensation that washed over me. A shiver down my spine.

"I..."

All eyes were now on the owner of the voice. In that case, me.

"I'll go, I'll go" I sighed. "No reason to get kinky, now."

He craned his neck around me and smirked.

"Yeah, another time I suppose."

We stared at each other for a while.

His eyes, a deep green brimming with some emotion. Something. His brow furrowed in...what? It would be so much easier for me if I could just know what others were thinking. I'm sure I could avoid a lot of problems.

Caleb and I were, in a way, a perfect match. We balanced each other perfectly. Our conversations were witty and fun, a back and forth debate. Attraction would pulsate off of us. There was passion and heat and connection and it was the best I'd ever had. The best he'd ever had. I am confident in that. And even though it's dissolved, I can still feel that electricity....

"So, have you guys, like, fucked?"

I gave an annoyed huff. I noticed that Tord was gone from the room, but I could hear his soft voice from the living room. One of the guys with Caleb was leaning against the wall and giving us a suspicious look.

Caleb sighed.

"Yeah. We've fucked."

"So like, are you gay or something?"

"Yes."

"Wow..." He smiled, getting a distant look in his eyes. "I've never met one before."

"Well you must've not been looking very hard. We're not very hard to find, our species." I mused. The guy started laughing. Caleb snickered, still holding me to him.

"Our kind tends to roam around in flocks. You'll know you've found us in our natural habitats when you see the lips. Naturally red. Good for dick sucking, even if we've never done it." He added. Two other men in the room tried to stifle in their laughter as well, either out of discomfort or disbelief, biting their lips and turning away. A hand over their mouths. Even I was laughing.

A small part of me wished I would've just stayed in this business. It felt a little less like the mafia sometimes and a bit more like a family. Drug dealers tend to be more accepting than other people, I've come to discover, very relaxed and flexible.

They could still be stern (as such their job requires) but they knew when to cut back and have fun. Some could joke that we were so loose because of all the pot. But they'd be wrong. We weren't a gang, we were a large group of people who could dick around with each other like friends do.

However, if you gain their trust and betray them, they will not hesitate to kill you.

Which is what I did.

There are divisions all around the country for this particular organization, and some around the globe. The divisions usually had a few "leaders" of some sort, or people that were the best at handling and bargaining and selling and dealing and so on and so forth. People think that drug dealing is some sleazy and lazy business with no thoughts other than greed and desire. No no, it's far more complicated than that.

Caleb and I were some of the best dealers in this business. We'd travel a lot to different divisions. Honestly, we'd probably be leaders if we wanted to.  
I have plenty of reasons for leaving.

I only joined because I loved him.

He was all I focused on. Everything else just...blurs. I caught on quickly just to be with him. I was putting my life on the line for him every day. Risking a life sentence to prison, getting shot, etc. Which is why it hurt so much when he...

For now, I'm sure that they'd shoot me for betraying them. I did it a bit more cleverly than they would've liked. It was a clean and flawless plan. And I would've gotten away with it...

"If it weren't for those meddling kids." I recited from memory, muttering under my breath. A mans head popped into view from the door way.

"'Meddling kids'? Is that Scooby Doo?"

Caleb released the grip on my hair, clearly convinced that I wasn't going to escape now.

"Thinking about that at a time like this?" He chuckled. "Ha, I've never been more aroused...." An obvious joke, but still. I let my mood darken.

"Don't even think about it. Should've considered situations like these before you became an asshole."

Silence filled the room.

"Hey, we got what we need. Let's go." A man said from another room.

Caleb had distracted me. I could've found a way out if we hadn't started talking. Fuck. But they all had guns, as he had pointed out, so maybe it was a risk I fortunately didn't take? Whatever, that's the past now. Right now, however, they seem to be acting casual. As if we were friends. I would've believed it too, if it weren't for the gun by my temple and hand threaded in my hair. He pushed me forward, edging me out of the room.

We were trudging to the door, some men holding bags of things. I saw a man talking to Tord, who looked thoroughly smug.

Damn him.

  
•••

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'd like you all to meet Caleb~
> 
> No no he's not that important. He isn't going to be one of tHOSE ocs.
> 
> I think we all know what I'm talking about.
> 
> ANYWAY tomtord Shit in the next chapter so *finger guns out of room*


	9. #personal experiences #guys I'm sorry lol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy on his way to get sHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT SHOT EVERY BOOODYYY (I'm tired okay give a b r e a k)

"So, what'd he do to get you in there?"

I glanced up.

We were in a van now, driven by a guy named Derry (or Desiderius as his full title, but he scolded anyone who called him that). The car was filled with bags and boxes and coolers. Musty, filthy, just the perfect paragon of an ideal transport for drugs. The boxes and things alike weren't moving, heavy with...something. The substances inside wasn't too hard to guess.

In the back was me and Caleb. Silence was devouring the time, and no one spoke a word. Was it out of disinterest? Anticipation and anxiety? Maybe they thought forming some sort of bond with me would be unwise, considering that I was being taken away for the very worst thing to do in this particular group. Smart.

"I'm sorry, but didn't you arrange all of this?" I asked. "Wouldn't you know what he did?" He smirked.

"Ha, no. I only told him to keep you in a secure and isolated area, his closed in apartment was preferable. What he did is out of my control." Caleb's eyebrow raised, casting out a look of suspicion to fill me with dread. "I'm guessing things got a little...intense?"

I was quiet. Or at least, I was going to be. But a thought was bothering me, and I know perfectly well that it is no use keeping my mouth shut.

"Why was he right next to our building? Purely coincidence? A bribe to the tenant?"

His hair swept in front of his eyes as he lowered his head, playing and picking at his nails.

"He just happened to live there."

"Seems convenient."

"Oh." He turned up to me again. His eyes glimmered with amusement and delight. "It all was very convenient."

I sighed.

"How vague can you get?"

"Is that a challenge?"

So Tord happened to live by me. Tord who also worked in our division, apparently. Tord who is in the company, more important, and just happened to live right beside me. That must be what he was talking about, right? As it is very convenient.

"Actually, that's partly true."

I snapped out of my thought, only to see Caleb giving me a soft smile.

"We..." He paused, as if searching for the right words for his next sentence. "...did tell him to keep an eye out for you. We had found rentals away from your home so much that it would be both less suspicious and more unlikely that questions and situations like these would arise." His eyes twinkled. "One must wonder why he decided to rent exactly next to you, costing him more money, even. Convenience maybe? Or maybe-"

The van suddenly bumped along the road, getting a quick and mumbled apology from Derry. We sat back to our original positions after adjusting ourselves. My thoughts were jolted and jarred as well.

What was he insinuating? That Tord went out of his way to live next to me? That's bulshit. I have never met him before in my life. How could he possibly have any attraction for me if he never met me?

And saying that previous line of 'what he did was out of my control' was only something he said to confuse and irritate me. Causing me to waste more emotional and mental energy on something so trivial and stupid. Free sex. That was of course why he did that. Duh. That's just the way people think. Or at least, freaks like him think. (Which happen to take up most of this forsaken world of ours)

Convenience. Tord definitely just planned it all out. He planned out that little montage with the gun and knife when we were in the floor. He has proven to be clever and quick in the worst of ways. So why try to second guess his intentions? He got the job done, and it provided him with both his sexual libido, pride, and dignity still intact. He came out with the good end of stick.

Whereas I am stuck here, on my way to be shot by some very vengeful (and unfortunately smart and strong) men.

It's been a while since I've been there, so I'll think of a plan when I get there.

"He said you were the best he's ever had."

I let out a sigh of exhaustion.

"What? God, _no_ he _didn't_. Leave me alone." I narrowed my eyes at him. "You're trying to get me riled up and, apparently, have empathy for the asshole who got me here. Cut that shit out."

"Well," Caleb said. "Think what you like. I'm not trying to sway you in any particular way, just saying the facts that you may do with as you please."

Silence.

"I-" I bit my lip. "Did he really say that?"

Curiosity had been planted in my head and here was no way of getting out. Damn him...

Caleb knows he's got my attention, consent or not. His knowing smirk graciously offers me this information.

"Oh yeah. He said that as much as he hates to admit it, you gave the best dick he's ever gotten." He laughed. "I asked him about you as a sexual partner after he told me what he did to snag you there. Adorable really. Blushing and everything. He told me not to tell you though."

"You're trying to bait me."

"No, I'm not. It's your own fault that, from hidden desires, you take offense to this."

I looked out the window. The houses passing, the shadows looming against the street from the sun, the lines on the road appearing into view than disappearing into the distance as quick as it came. Secure. Comfortable, even. To see a scene like this, I must be in high spirits, correct?

Ah, the setting stereotypes might just be my favorite.

That if it's a dark and stormy night, something bad and malicious must be happening. If it's raining, emotions run high, sadness might be afoot. I'd the sun is shining, a day of possibility and excitement is near. Sometimes they come true, sometimes they don't.

A man being taken away to be shot and killed on a sunny and bright morning. How ironic.

"Accusing me of harboring 'hidden desires' won't get the reaction of which you crave. He means nothing to me. I knew better, I took a risk, and it backfired. He was just the main factor." I snapped, turning back to his smug face.

The light was hitting his face in a lovey way, where his cheekbones were given a lovely highlight, his hair shining. I don't know what he's trying to accomplish from these mind games, but he surely has to know that I'm not completely done with him yet. Maybe.

Am I done with him? I crane my head and study his face once more, locking eyes with him. Yes, I think, I'm done. Attraction may still linger in our interactions, but that will eventually fade, I'm sure of it. Another relationship gone to shit. It happens.

We slowed to a stop. I noticed that the houses looked shabbier here. One stories, chilling paint, practically no lawn. Plastic kids toys and play vehicles loitered around the houses. A neighborhood full of the poor and helpless. Where crime begins and hope ends. As the media would have many think.

I saw my own childhood as I looked at the beat up and old cars all around the street. I grew up in a place like this. I experienced hardships, yes, but I felt close to everyone around me. Oh how the world labels these streets. Drug addicts, whores, white trash, drop-outs. Ah, stereotypes.

"Oi, McCree, we're here." Derry called, turning back around to aim at my head in precaution as I exit the vehicle.

Caleb rubbed his hands together.

"Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *rolls up from the depths of hell*
> 
> I am
> 
> Soooo sorry.
> 
> I've been busy and doing stuff and life is a bitch, okay. My angel should be updated soon. Idk we'll see what happens. Tord pov should be in two chapters so buckle up my sweet butternips. 
> 
> And yes, his last name is an overwatch reference.
> 
> *chugs Snapple and launches back into fucking hell*


	10. Oh wowie take some filler

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take some Tord point of view because I'm having a huge ass writers block

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meh

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell just as sweet."  
  
-Juliet (Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet)

 

  
A quote that stands true to this day.

I always thought my name never quite suited me.

I mean, I'm still me. No matter what my name is, I still act and talk the same, and forever it will remain as such.

I stare out the window of my apartment, now empty and small without the bustling of shoes and conflict. Now full with regret and guilt.

I always did fancy the name Thomas.

Actually, what if names can affect us? Like, we give ourselves this personality that we think correspond with the name stereotype?

What if, had my name been any different, I had more confidence as some do. Perhaps I would feel less remorse of hurting others. Maybe I wouldn't feel so terrible. And what if I would be completely fine with doing this to the man I...

I sighed, and took another drink of milk.

Laurel told me that milk was one of the most soothing drinks there is. I beg to fucking differ. Alcohol always did the trick for me, but alas. I am out of alcohol. And left only with milk that expires in four days. So, milk it is.

I wonder what they're doing to him. Obviously going to shoot him. They don't play around down in the streets. You betray them, you die. Trust no bitch.

But I think that they might not. From what I was told, he is a very important member of this organization. They might break something, limb or material, but that might be it.

I'm still staring out the window. I see the window to Tom and Caleb's old apartment, and I'm suddenly reminded of my old creepy habits. I remember staring out the window when I was assigned to reside here, must've been...Christ, a year ago?

I had been told to watch them. Not in a stalkerish way, just checking up on them. A couple peeks every so often when they leave the building. Ha, how that had backfired...

I had been waiting for them to come home. It was the first day I was there, and I wanted to get some what of a good look at him.

And he was stunning.

The man they called Thomas looked like a model. Broad shoulders, clean-cut jawline littered with scruff. Strong chest that stretched his shirt. I couldn't help but laugh aloud when I saw what his shirt displayed. The words: "even Jesus took painful shits" in bright white.

A sharp nose, ears adorned with piercings, muscley arms. I remember shifting in my seat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable and inferior. I wasn't even in the room and I still felt intimidated.

My heart had wreached at the adorable and messy floof that he probably called hair.

I wanted to watch him as much as possible, only wanting to feel him. Sudden images of pressing myself up against him, flushed against his hard chest. I felt the urge to moan for him, begging and whimpering for more and-

There was another man there.

This man was just as thin as him. His hair was longer and much more well-kept. Jet black hair and piercing brown eyes that made me feel pathetic. And was that...eye makeup?

After that, I had watched him. _Them_ , I suppose would be more appropriate. But i found that I focused more on him. Everything else blended into the background, blurred and forgotten.

My vision suddenly cut back to the present, where I only saw an empty apartment. It's silly of me to feel disappointed, but I can't help but regret...everything.

To say that I'm in love with him is a stupid thing to say. I never spoke to him until recent events. I would just watch him from my window, craning my neck to see everything that went on in that apartment. I'm not in love with him. So what was it? Or, what I should say is...so what _is_ it...?

A fascination, perhaps? A simple and mundane attraction. It compares to finding someone attractive in public, not knowing anything about them but still finding themselves attracted to them. Brief and swift. I think.

My phone made the respective buzzing pattern against the desk. It lit to life and presented me with the notification that Laura had texted me. Rolling my eyes I swiped it and activated the app.

She had said that it was late, and that she wanted to make sure I was thinking clearly last night. She was asking me if I had used protection, followed by a generic winking face that made me almost cringe. I would've cringed, had I not had the previous history of using the same emoticon. It would have been hypocritical of me.

After an involuntary laugh I had disguised (for literally no one since there was no one else in the room) as a huff, I sent my reply. That no, I didn't use a condom. And that yes, she is free to call me a depraved animal.

She responded with a picture of an ad, displaying the words "thirst has no curfew".

I smiled. As annoying as she can be, Laura really is a good friend of mine.

She seemed to really like Thomas. Whether that was playful or serious flirting, she liked him. And she seemed eager for he and I to...go home together.

I really wish I was under different circumstances.

Thomas was, to put it bluntly, a dream. Gorgeous. But his personality? I would've fell for that alone. Charismatic, witty and clever, funny, sweet and humble. Who wouldn't want him?

Yes, I tell myself, I...admire him. But that's it. I've only _officially_ known him for less than twenty-four hours, it's impossible to say I have a crush on him.

It seems like such a girly thing to say. That I have a _crush_ on him. That I think he's _soo_ _cute_. That he is just _so_ _dreamy_...

This milk was getting warm and gross. I decided to just push it off to the side and deal with it later. I have much more important matters to attend to. However, I ignored those matters in favor of wishing of what could have been. Which of course was interrupted by another set of vibrations from my phone.

I frowned. Caleb had texted me.

**He's thinking about you**

I let myself smile at that one.

I thought back to last night, when I was in the throes of passion under him, (I'm such a fucking poet) weak and helpless but so infuriatingly turned on. He was an _amazing_ lover, just as I had thought about. As casual wonderment, not a silly daydream, of course.

I remembered the heavenly noises he made, how he made me let out sounds with equal value. The face he made, concentrated and flushed, lip bitten and eyes in a heated, half-lidded gaze. How he focused on hitting that _blessed_ _spot_ inside of me. How his rough hands had stroked me, throwing me over the edge in the most _perfect_  way. How his muscles flexed, how sharp jawline was highlighted with delicious sweat, how his hips moved so powerfully and strong...He really was straight from a fantasy.

I remembered how afterwards, he kissed me in places so unerotic, that it made it all the more intimate. He made it seem like he loved every part of me. Which I know was just him being the sweet little gentleman he is, but still...

Thomas had helped...clean me out, if you will. He cleaned _me_ up. And that was there too wonderful for words, especially when it was only a one night stand. No one has ever done that.

Nor have they ever picked me up with their strong arms and held me across their broad chest and carried me, leaving me weak in all sorts of places.

To keep a man like him to myself is a kink itself.

At the memory, I gave a low purr from my throat. I picked up my phone and responded to Caleb.

 

**glad to know I've left an impression ;)**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll update as soon as I can
> 
> Achoo

**Author's Note:**

> see you in two days, my little milk cartons~


End file.
